


Damage Control

by brookebond



Series: Inceptiversary 2017 [13]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur has regrets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 06:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11663430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookebond/pseuds/brookebond
Summary: Arthur second guesses sending that email to Eames.





	Damage Control

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Loss of Control square on my Kink/Trope Bingo Card.

Sending that email had seemed like a great idea at the time but now, with the whoosh of the message being sent, Arthur felt sick. He was pretty sure he was going to throw up or maybe just straight up pass out. Either would be preferable if it was a guarantee that he would get that message back.

While Eames was a notorious flirt—and habitually single—it didn’t actually mean he had any real interest in Arthur. Now he had gone and put himself in a compromising position with someone he still had to work with.

Arthur sat at the desk, pulling his laptop closer and quickly set about hacking into Eames’ email. It was easy. Hacking Eames’ email was something Arthur could do in his sleep. After his lapse in judgement, doing something familiar was calming.

It wasn’t until Arthur saw the email was already read that the panic started to set in again.

Eames had seen the email.

Eames knew it was from Arthur.

Eames was potentially watching the video at that very moment.

His stomach roiled, his dinner threatening to make a reappearance.

He was going to have to go into hiding, retire from dreamshare, or maybe just fake his death. All of those were far better than ever having to face Eames again.

Arthur closed his laptop with more force than was necessary and pushed away from the desk. He was going to get the hell out of dodge and disappear.

All of his meagre belongings were packed away, bag slung over his shoulder, when his phone chimed. He hoped that it was the driver telling Arthur he was outside.

His hoping was for nothing, though. Eames’ number was on the screen, taunting him as it went black.

There was no mercy, no benevolent God to save Arthur from his mistake. He was royally fucked.

He swore and unlocked the phone. Sure, since he had managed to send that email, he could look at a stupid text.

His heart beat wildly against his chest. If he had a heart attack, at least he wouldn’t have to read a message that was most likely calling him some sort of pervert.

The message opened, blank for a few heart-stopping seconds before an image began to load.

Eames’ terribly tailored trousers came into view. They were pushed down just enough for Eames to hold his softening cock in full view. There was a small trail of come leaking from the tip, some was even drying on his shirt. Eames’ face loaded last and Arthur trembled, eyes caught on those full lips parted in a silent moan. It had to be some sort of wishful thinking hallucination.

His fingers moved of their own accord, dialling Eames’ number before he could process what he was doing.

“Hello?” Eames’ sleepy voice answered.

“You watched it,” Arthur said, making it more a statement than a question. He was still having trouble realising that Eames had actually sent that picture in response to his video.

“Mmmm, darling,” Eames hummed, “I most certainly did. I never pegged you for the risqué type.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Mr Eames.”

“Care to show me, then?”

“Antigua, two weeks,” Arthur said and hung up before Eames could respond.

Everything Arthur wanted was about to come to fruition or it was all going to come crashing down around him. He wasn’t sure which he was hoping for.


End file.
